100 themes of Annabeth
by meggymoocow
Summary: 100 one-shots about our favourite smart, fiesty heroine - it is, of course, Annabeth Chase! This is my entry for Wishing-Fire's '100 theme challenge'. Hope you like it! P.S. I would love to get some reviews in there...
1. Chapter 1

**So, whilst stumbling through , I found a writer called Wishing-Fire. She had set the fanfiction community a ton of cool challenges. I decided to attempt the '100 theme challenge', in which you write 100 short one-shots about a character of your choice. I decided to completely ignore one of the rules, which is a 100-word limit, because I hate writing with only a few words. So, hope you enjoy!**

Chapter 1 – Introduction

Luke, Thalia and I raced round the corner of the street. After us, two dracaenae slithered on their double snake tails.

"Thalia!" I shouted, warning her of a spear heading her way. In one fluid movement, Thalia turned on her heel, reaching out a hand. With accuracy that comes only from practice, she grabbed the handle of the spear, spun it round on her palm and threw it back at the dracaenae. One exploded into dust, coating its companion.

"One down, one to go!" yelled Luke, as we sprinted down a side street.

We were stopped in our tracks. Taking a wrong turning can be a fatal mistake, and we were not in luck. A tall wire fence loomed in front of us. I dug my heels in, and stopped, searching for an escape route. However, my friends sped up. They did what would have been impossible for me, and cleared the fence.

Realisation dawned on Thalia's face, as she noticed I wasn't running alongside them. I clung to the fence, trying desperately to scramble over, but I was just too small.

"Annabeth!" Thalia screamed, a fresh coating of fear painting itself over her face. Luke glanced around, and his face paled when he saw me struggling.

They ran up to me, tried to help. They kept repeating my name, as though I would be safe if they said it enough times. Tears streamed down my cheeks, as the wire cut in to my skin.

The dracaena came barrelling towards me. I drew my knife, flattening myself against the fence. This was it. Eight short years, that was all I got. It ended here. I braced myself.

But the dracaena never came. I heard simple music, the kind of tune I would imagine tribal warriors playing. The grass seeped over the dracaena's feet, and it fell to the ground. I saw a hooded figure drop to the ground, draw a short sword, and finish the dracaena off.

It would be an understatement to say I breathed a sigh of relief. "_I'm not dead…" _ I kept thinking.

"Who... who are you?" I asked this strange man.

He drew back his hood. Were those horns on his head?

"The name's Grover," he said, whilst taking a chain-cutter from his bag and creating a hole for Thalia and Luke.

He smiled back at me "I'm your protector. Nice to meet you."

**Sorry if the back story is stated in the PJO books, and I have just made up something completely new… I don't know all the facts, because my darling brother gave all my PJO books to charity!**

**Anyway, I would love to see some reviews! Next theme: Love**


	2. Chapter 2 - Love

**Well, this took forever to write! Hope you like it **

Chapter 2 – Love

Annabeth spread out a blanket on the golden-white sand, the light of the moon guiding her way, and let her rucksack slide off her shoulder. She had been spending a lot of time out here since… since Percy disappeared. Being by the sea always reminded her of him.

Gazing out over the water, she thought about him. She thought about his permanently tousled hair, his blue-green eyes, his perfect smile. A tear traced down her cheek as the waves rolled onto the beach.

Suddenly, Annabeth realised that someone was behind her. She whipped round, flashing a torch*** **into the sand dunes. A familiar face was illuminated, and Annabeth sighed with relief.

"Hey, Piper." She said, feeling grateful for the presence of her friend. Piper had helped her when she was at her lowest moments, which was – in Annabeth's opinion – the best quality to have in a friend.

"Thinking about Percy?" asked Piper. Annabeth nodded in reply.

"Can… can I ask you something, Pipes?" asked Annabeth.

Piper turned to look at her friend.

"Fire away."

"I… umm… well, er, what I mean to say is…"

Piper laughed, a sound that always comforted Annabeth.

"Just spit it out."

Annabeth smiled weakly. "Do you believe in true love, Piper? Honestly?"

Piper leaned back, and looked at the constellations.

"You're going to find him, Annabeth. You're going to find him."

**Next theme: Hate**

***Flashlight for you Americans!**


	3. Chapter 3 - Hate

Chapter 3 – Hate

The Labyrinth was dark. Percy was watching my back. I was more tired than I can ever remember being. But I still couldn't get to sleep. The scene in the arena kept playing in my mind.

_Percy stabbed the giant Antaeus. The crowd roared, whether in fury or appreciation I couldn't tell. _

"_Jackson!" Luke yelled. "I should have killed you long ago!"_

"_You tried," Percy reminded him. "Let us go, Luke. We had a sworn agreement with Antaeus. I'm the winner."_

_But I knew Luke wasn't going to let us walk free. He said, "Antaeus is dead. His oath dies with him. But since I'm feeling merciful today, I'll have you killed quickly." _

_Luke pointed at me. "Spare the girl." His voice quavered just a little. "I would speak to her before—before our great triumph."_

_All around us, monsters extended their claws or drew a weapon. For five thousandth time that day, I came thought "This is it. This is where I die."_

_Then Mrs O'Leary burst through the wall._

_Percy shouted "Let's go!" Rachel ran to the far exit, and suddenly we were back in the labyrinth, and free._

The part that most stuck in my head was Luke's plea to spare me. I just couldn't believe he could think he could win me back, just like that.

I felt an intense rage boiling inside me. I still remembered the days when we fought side by side, just me, Luke and Thalia against the world. We used to be friends! He used to trust me! _I _used to trust _him_. How could this happen? How could he be so utterly _despicable_?

I realised what this feeling was, this weight on my shoulders, this deafening pounding in my ears.

I whispered into the darkness, "I hate you, Luke Castellan."


	4. Chapter 4 - Vacation

Chapter 4 – Vacation

"But _why_?" pleaded a seven-year-old Annabeth.

"Honey, you know I have to go away sometimes," replied Annabeth's dad. "Just think of it as… a mini vacation."

Annabeth stared defiantly at her father. "If it's vacation, why can't I come with you?"

She pronounced vacation like 'vaction', in one of those adorable ways only a seven-year-old can pull off.

"Well, mum's going to be here, isn't she? So you'll be fine."

She stared at him, her grey eyes turning into miniature storms.

"She. Is. Not. My. Mother!" Annabeth exclaimed.

Annabeth's dad scooped up his daughter, holding her close and stroking her hair.

"You have to promise me you'll try to be good. Sometimes, you can't have what you want all of the time. Sometimes, you need to just be happy with what you've got. So, are you going to let me leave now?"

Annabeth sniffed, then smiled at her father. "Enjoy your vacation." She said at last. "And come back soon."

He picked up his briefcase, ruffled her hair, and walked to his car. The last thing he saw before he left was a pair of grey eyes, gazing at him through the letterbox.

**So, I'm pretty sure Americans don't have letterboxes… and, from your point of view, I have spelt grey incorrectly! **

**But anyway, I hope you liked that (although it was super short...) **** Some reviews would be nice!**


	5. Chapter 5 - Growing Up

Chapter 5 – Growing Up

Annabeth was sitting by the edge of the woods, propped up against a tree. In her hands, she held a thick, leather-bound book. If you looked closely enough, you would see the writing on the front – Memories, written in beautiful golden calligraphy.

Annabeth had a small smile on her face. She was gazing at a picture of a baby girl. The infant had enormous grey eyes and a small shock of blonde hair. She was wearing a ridiculously frilly white dress, with a matching bow in her hair and tiny white pumps. It was captioned 'Annabeth's big day – the Christening!'

On the flip side of that page was another photo of the angelic child, this time in the arms of her father. In the background, a stained glass window – this is the aforementioned christening. The girl had been caught mid-laugh, that happy moment forever frozen, trapped in time like a bird with motionless wings.

Annabeth adjusted her position, ensuring that the book is kept away from prying eyes. These memories are hers and hers alone.

Then, a school picture. The infant has pigtails, held together by a blue bow. She has a shy smile, not quite real, like the photographer has instructed her to smile. She must be starting school, at the age of four.

The next image is the same infant, this time older. Looking at the picture, one would guess she is roughly five. She is in the middle of a dance, hands joined in a ring with ten or so other children, blonde hair whipping wildly around her face, her dress a patchwork rainbow of cloth. You can almost hear the sounds; children laughing, parents singing along, perhaps a dog barking. Happy sounds. Childhood sounds. Underneath is written: 'Annabeth's school fayre'

Annabeth's smile drops, a frown blossoming over her face. She is not angry; it is more like a deeply buried fear.

The next photo is different. We see the self-same girl, but her expression has changed. She looks guarded, not letting anyone in. Her dress is decorated in a pretty floral pattern, but the girl seems uncomfortable in it. Around her, a smiling family consisting of Mum, Dad and two brothers. Only the little boys seem genuine; the others are tense, as fragile as glass. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife. The girl is just six, possibly seven, by the looks of her. My instant reaction – she needs a hug.

Annabeth turns the page. Now we see a girl with matted hair, dirt smudged all over her. She is turned away from the camera, hands covering her face. It takes a while to recognise the youngster from the previous photos. What could have happened to make her this way?

But the next picture alters the mood once again. There is a strip of small photos, clearly originating from a photo booth. In each one, there is a girl with spiky black hair and piercing blue eyes, an older boy with untamed blonde hair, and our recurring vision, the little girl. Although look dirty, exhausted and underfed, you can sense the happiness radiating from the photo. These people are meant to be together.

That is where the photos stop.

Annabeth retrieves something from her pocket. She gazes at it, her smile coming back, bigger this time. It is a photograph of her, but she is not alone. Standing next to her is a boy. He has wild, windswept black hair, sea-green eyes and a face made for smiles. He is kissing Annabeth's cheek, while she laughs, looking straight at the camera.

Annabeth slips the image into the photo book. It is undoubtedly the happiest photo of them all.

**Awwww! Well, I hope you liked that! You are lucky people – two updates in one day?! It is unheard of!**

**Anyway, you all have a good day! Make up for mine, 'cause I'm ill and a bit miserable **

**-Meggymoocow**


	6. Chapter 6 - Trouble

**Thanks for the great response to this story! Hope you like this chapter too!**

**(just a note - in England, we call Jack-o-lanterns pumpkins. Don't get confused, Americans!)**

Trouble's Brewing

Annabeth was excited. This was the first time she had been to the theatre, and (naturally) she had chosen to see a performance of Macbeth. It was Halloween time, and the theatre was decorated with carved pumpkins and model bats. However, that was not all – it was an open air theatre, and so you could feel the night air closing in around you. It was dark, and very spooky, especially for a six-year-old, which she was.

"Come on Annabeth, the second half is about to start!" said Annabeth's dad.

Annabeth settled down in her seat. Not only was she thoroughly enjoying the show, she was also overjoyed to have her dad all to herself while her step-mother and brothers were out trick-or-treating.

The lights dimmed, leaving only the stage illuminated.

Three witches appeared on stage. They began to chant:

"Double, double toil and trouble  
Fire burn, and caldron bubble,  
Fillet of a fenny snake,  
In the cauldron boil and bake;  
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,  
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,  
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,  
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,  
For a charm of powerful trouble,  
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.  
Double, double toil and trouble;  
Fire burn, and caldron bubble."

At each line, they added something to the gigantic cauldron at the front of the stage. One of the witches cackled.

"Trouble's brewing, my friends!" she stage-whispered.

Annabeth squealed and buried her face in her dad's jacket. She was finding the play fascinating, but that didn't stop her from being scared.

Suddenly, there was a scream from the top row of chairs in the audience. At first, Annabeth thought it was part of the show, but more people started screaming and running for the exits.

Annabeth's dad craned his neck to see what was causing the commotion. He looked confused for a second, and then it seemed to dawn on him what was happening.

"Oh my God!" He yelled. "Wolf!"

Everyone else started taking up the cry: "Wolf!" "Wild Wolf!"

Annabeth's dad seized her hand and started dragging her towards the exit. They were nearly there when Annabeth stopped in her tracks, and turned around to try and get a glimpse of the wolf.

She saw it, but it was not what she expected at all. The 'wolf' was massive, easily the size of a van. It was black, sleek fur covering its whole body. Enormous, razor-sharp teeth protruded from its jaw, along with tusks where the canines would be, and every tooth had blood dripping from it. The creatures face was squashed up, almost as if it had run head-first into a brick wall. In short, it was absolutely terrifying.

"That's no wolf," she muttered under her breath.

"Annabeth, _what_? Oh, never mind, just run!" shouted her dad, and he tugged her towards the exit.

Unbeknown to Annabeth, that was her first encounter with a hellhound.


	7. Chapter 7 - First Encounter with an Anim

Chapter 7 - First Encounter with an Animal

Annabeth could remember pretty far back. All the strange things which had happened during her childhood (and there were quite a few) seemed to stick in her mind, which is probably how she could recall this particular event.

Annabeth was just a few days old. She was lying on the sofa in the lounge of her dad's house, and she could hear the sound of two people arguing in the kitchen.

"No! I can't keep a baby! I have to continue my research!" shouted her dad.

"But, my dear, you must!" appealed a woman's voice, sounding far gentler. "I can't take her to Olympus with me, you know I can't!"

Annabeth's dad sighed, clearly upset to be losing the argument.

"Anyway," continued the woman. "You should consider her a blessing! After all," she said, a smile apparent in her voice. "It's not every day you get a baby girl."

After a pause, Annabeth's dad spoke.

"Okay. I'll take her."

"Thank you. Your kindness will not go unnoticed by me, or your daughter," promised the mysterious woman.

Then came the strange part. Baby Annabeth heard a ruffling of wings coming from the kitchen. Suddenly, a small owl flew in to the lounge, and perched at the end of the sofa. The owl gave a soft hoot, and ruffled its wings. And, although it is scientifically impossible for owls to cry Annabeth could have sworn she saw the beautiful bird shed a tear before it flew out of the open window.

**Hope you enjoyed! Review if you thought it was worthy!**

**Also, I would love it if you could check out my other fanfiction, Olympus Laboratories.**

**Next Chapter: First Love (warning: extreme Percabeth!)**


	8. Chapter 8 - First Love

**Hi guys! Now, I know you will probably hate me because of the length of this chapter, but I felt it was more effective. Why not tell me what you think in a review?!**

Chapter 8 – First Love

Annabeth was more scared than she had ever been before.

The strange thing is that she was in no danger. She was just sitting on her bunk in Cabin 6, staring at the wall. You would think that the more terrifying times would be the constant battles, fights against the Titans a few months back, or perhaps the fatal injury which had almost ended her life. But none of that seemed too bad now. All the most horrific times in her life weren't important any more. Because the worst possible thing had happened.

Percy, her first true love, was gone.

**Next Chapter: First Crush**


	9. Chapter 9 - First Crush

First Crush

What was your life like at age eight? Maybe you were into Barbie dolls, or computer games. The worst thing that could happen to you was a fight with your friends.

Me? I had endured months of sleeping rough. I had almost been killed on numerous occasions. And my best friend was dead.

For weeks, months even, Thalia, Luke and I had survived. Nearly.

Our journey was so nearly over when it happened. Slowly but surely, we had made our way towards the legendary Camp Half-Blood. Finally, we were there, but we were overrun. I felt like just giving up, but Thalia and Luke were there to support me. We were so nearly at camp, but then the monsters struck. Thalia… Thalia sacrificed herself. She was lost to me now, growing a hard bark shell and a thick green canopy. It was surreal.

For so long, Thalia and Luke were the only people who I could rely on. They were more than best friends – our loyalty to one another was off the scale. During those long months, we all suffered more than anyone should have to endure. I had too many injuries to count. A roof over my head was an untold luxury. Hot meals were not even worth consideration.

I still feel that they were some of the best months of my life.

But, on a beautiful sunny day in the middle of September, I was sat on my bunk in a cabin that wasn't home, and my mind was full of clouds. Normal eight-year-olds don't generally contemplate the meaning of life, but I guess you couldn't call me normal.

I was thinking about how I had lost all connection to those days, which had ended mere weeks ago. My only remaining link was Luke, bright, funny, brilliant Luke.

If only he would notice me.


End file.
